


a burning melody

by That_Adorable_Fox (orphan_account)



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Arson, Fire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 21:40:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30061911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/That_Adorable_Fox
Summary: Akamatsu-san was never born to play piano
Kudos: 1





	a burning melody

**Author's Note:**

> https://archiveofourown.org/works/29904231

Music is her best friend.

The endless loop of  _ Rolling Girl _ is constant, comforting. The silence isn't too dense on her ears, doesn't drill into her head with its endless buzzing, endless watching, endless voices grabbing at her ears just like her father would, singing her worthlessness just like her mother would. 

But her music will always be there. The headphones pressed against her head would give her headache after headache, but it was much less painful than that awful, suffering silence. Her favorite songs would blast into her ears, making her deaf and dizzy with colors dancing in the air and shapes flowing through her veins. 

Akamatsu Kaede wishes she could play piano. She finds an old warehouse with a broken piano, so she drops her bag and walks near it. But... when she sits down at the stool her fingers are clunky and heavy, and every wrong note is pressed and her posture is wrong and her hands are sloppy and… 

It ended with fire. 

Akamatsu-san doesn't try again after the flames licked her purple skirt and and melted her white hair clips to her hair. 

It takes her only a week until she's able to listen to _Rolling Girl_ again, though the wonderfully painful smell of smoke is still choking her throat and begging her to strike one more match, _just one more, its already in flames, why not go all out?_ when the piano, far too fast for her stupid, ugly, burned, scarred fingers to play starts. 

She walks by the same warehouse days later and laughs when she finds it burning, burning, burning. Smoke is climbing high into the air but no siren is in sight. She sees a flash of white and laughs louder, and grins, the familiar heat wrapping its hands around her body, squeezing tight.

She laughs, and laughs and laughs as she runs far, far away.

Akamatsu-san was never born to play piano


End file.
